Ridiculous
by Oblong features
Summary: A short one shot, possible ZaGR/ZaGF, ehh yeah it just had those two characters in it. Just a little story about how everyone has off days. And first times.


_Ridiculous_, he thought, _this couldn't be any more ridiculous. _Sitting in a classroom with people a hundred and fifty years his junior, he couldn't escape the feeling of disdain that plagued him every moment. Disdain for his peers, disdain for his stupid teacher, who knew no more than a gerbil with an anger management issue, and disdain for his topics of study. This month, they gave the kids deep sea diving instruction manuals in replacement of textbooks. _An octopus has eight tentacles,_ he thought in mindless repetition, _an octopus has eight another two minutes until lunch, until a break. I wonder what I'll pretend to eat today, I hope it's not ketchup and raisins day. I don't have too much of an appetite though… I feel… sick, like I ate rocks this morning. Maybe there was something in the pancakes – wait – I didn't have pancakes this morning, that was yesterday. I haven't eaten yet today, I remember because I've felt this way since last night. I hope I don't throw up or something. I wonder if they'll serve octopus at lunch._

Slowly, almost methodically, Zim finished his thought and the bell rang. Almost in one motion, he stood up, went to his locker, and put away the diving manual next to the crayon drawing he had completed of the earth in a fiery wreck two days before. Not even a glimpse of that could make him smile – s_o it's going to be one of those days again, I suppose,_ he mused, pursing his lips ever so slightly with a hint of resignation. As he escorted himself to the cafeteria, he lingered momentarily by the window, observing the storm clouds gathering overhead, the light, frozen mist dampening the autumn ground with the vague tastes of winter. It made him even gloomier. On Irk they didn't have such defined and fickle seasons, much less seasonal affective disorder. _It explains why I've been feeling so moody the past couple of months_, he thought, _it must be the weather. What strange weather they have here._

The line for the cafeteria was, as usual, long and unfruitful. After waiting ten minutes to get food he wasn't going to eat, he sat down at a table alone in the corner of the room, one table away from the rejects and two tables away from Dib and his stupid sister. He moved his mashed potatoes and powdered milk around on his tray, forming images reminiscent of faces and Rorschach-like memories, trying not to think of home, of crawling to the couch and wrapping himself in blankets while a frustrated primate beamed on the television. Dib's sister isn't that stupid, actually, just kind of mean. She is kind of cute though. Oh, shut up and pretend to eat.

"Hey, Zim!" Dib sneered from across the lunchroom. _Please, please not today, _Zim pleaded_, any day but today, I'm not in the mood._ Dib slid in on the bench next to him, chuckling softly as the little green boy let out a weary sigh and a small cough. Gaz hopped in to the seat catty-corner from the alien, slipping her Game Slave 2 into her pocket and taking a sip of chocolate milk. "Are you gonna eat that or just stare at it?" Zim turned his head to Dib slowly, with a small glare and a heavy, sharp breath in. "You never actually eat more than one bite of food at lunch. What's wrong, allergic to human food?" Exhausted and frustrated, Zim pursed his lip and, with a glint in his eyes, continued to silently stare. Gaz peered up at the two after a soft swallow of questionable meats.

"Dib, I wouldn't do that if I were you," she said, recognizing the exasperation in Zim's eyes, as it was a familiar sentiment. With a long blink and a turn of his head downward, Zim once again coughed and continued to push around his mashed potatoes – the only thing he felt he could push around these days.

"What's gonna happen, Gaz? He'll take me back to his base and dissect me or something? I don't think so! Hear that, space boy? You can't get my organs!" Dib shrieked right into Zim's ear. _That's it_, Zim seethed, _I'm done._ He got up from his seat, leaving his tray behind, and marched proudly to the playground, Dib's yells of victory hallowing through the building as he left. Sitting down on a step of the jungle gym, he rubbed his eyes and rested his head in his hands. _Maybe I could just go home,_ he mused, _it's not like I'll be missing much. _A voice from behind him interrupted his thought, telling him rather rudely to get out of the way, he was hindering the way to the slide. Standing up in defeat and walking slowly over to the steps of the Skool, he planted himself next to Gaz, who was reading a book. She pretended not to notice for the first few seconds, but catching a glimpse of green skin out of the corner of her eye, she thought he deserved some attention. Everyone has bad days. And Gaz knew about bad days. Hell, Gaz never had a good one.

"Hey." She shrugged almost unnoticeably as she folded her book, marking her page with her finger, and put it in her lap.

"Hey," Zim said, staring at his three-fingered hands, resting palms down on his thighs, feeling like a freak.

"I guess I'm kinda sorry for my idiot brother. He's kind of socially impossible." _Damn straight_, Zim thought.

"Yeah," he said. Briefly they sat in silence, staring at the discord unfolding on the playground as a schoolmate cut in line for the monkey bars, a fight ensuing. There were so many things to say, but none he really wanted to. He didn't know her that well, after all. As comfortable as he felt, he knew telling her the truth could only lead to problems. So he decided to be vague. To talk, but to be vague. "Most of the time it doesn't get to me." A shiver went up his spine as he contemplated his choice of topic.

"Everyone has an off day," she said softly, her voice dropping subtly to a tone that reminded Zim of a relative, if he had any. They paused.

"I'm not everyone," he mistakenly thought out loud. She let out a single laugh in that same tone of voice.

"Well I kinda figured that one out." They each smiled for a few seconds, sadness lurking in their eyes in between the small talk. Moments later, the bell rang, and as the populous began to file in, Zim started to walk away, making his way to the gate leading outside of Skool property. The inquisitive Gaz almost distinctively followed – but not too close behind, she didn't want him to think she liked him a little. Eh, pitied him, that's more like it. No matter how cute he was. Even without a nose. "Hey, where are you going? That was the bell for class, not for dismissal."  
"I'm going home," he replied, his hand on the door of the gate. The playground was empty. They felt a little safer. "I don't feel good." They paused, letting the cold overtake the nervous energy they emitted around each other.

"Do you have any video games?" she cooed. He turned to face her. They stood as frozen statues.

"What?"

"You heard me. Do you have any video games?"

"Yeah," he replied. They paused again, just long enough for Gaz to sniff and for Zim to swallow, his throat dry and congealed. "Why?"

"I don't feel good either." The corners of her mouth turned upwards in a gentle jest as Zim smiled, his tired eyes begging for a warm blanket and someone to hold. But let her into the base? She's Dib's sister, who knows what she could be planning. She could be a spy working for him, or a detective on her own, he couldn't be certain. It would be preposterous to let her into the base. The whole mission could be compromised.  
"Come on," his mouth said, his brain working itself into a frenzy. _Did I just agree? What just happened? This can't be happening, this can't be happening. _He opened the gate for her, his heart in his throat, desperate for a way out – or in. They strolled down the sidewalk, the snow picking up its pace, coating the streets and sidewalks with a slippery, wet glaze. _Maybe when we get back I can make her some popcorn. I wonder if we have any popcorn. I wonder if we'll kiss. I've heard humans do that too._ He looked carefully over at her, only to find that she has been staring at him. Quickly they both turned away, walking a bit faster, fueled by adrenaline. They didn't speak until they reached a distant view of Zim's cul-de-sac.

"Hey, are you okay?" she asked, almost in a considerate tone of voice. He took in a hearty breath, letting it out all at once, letting the air freeze in front of him. He turned his attention to her numbly. Inflection of any kind seemed almost too difficult at this point. All but smiling. His face seemed to do that on its own.

"Better." As Gaz raised her eyebrows with a tint of hope and a flutter in her heartless chest, Zim turned back to face front, fearful he had been too forward. He tried to rectify the situation as effectively as possible. "I've never played video games with two people before," he reflected monotonously, a comment made more for himself than for Gaz.  
"I guess there's a first time for everything." Gaz said as they reached the front door. As Zim let her in, the echoes of "welcome home, son" bouncing quickly off the walls of the house, he thought about first times. His first time playing multiplayer video games. His first time ditching school. His first time letting someone in the base.

_Maybe my first kiss. If I get lucky._

He quietly grasped her hand, his hands cold, stiff and safe.

The door swung closed.


End file.
